


The Pretzel Model (As Applied to Time and Sex)

by blueskypenguin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskypenguin/pseuds/blueskypenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little things told Gabriel it was time to make a memory long held close to come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pretzel Model (As Applied to Time and Sex)

When Gabriel appeared in the hotel room he was surprised to find it empty, but the sounds of someone in the shower were reassuring. Too often he'd appeared in the wrong room, or even the right room but the brothers had left already, running from recognition and the law, all in his haste to spend every possible moment with Sam.

He just hoped it was one of the brothers in the shower.

He took a look around the room, walked to the window and glanced outside: one Impala in exceptionally good condition.

Well, in that case he just hoped it was the _right_ brother in the shower. Castiel had gone straight to Dean, so either Dean was elsewhere, or his brother and the elder Winchester were in that bathroom. "Hey, Sam?"

"Gabriel! Gimme a sec," and he heard the water shut off. After a few agonising moments of Gabriel letting his outstanding imagination and personal experience fill what he couldn't see on the other side of the bathroom door, Sam came back in, unfortunately fully dressed. In only a few strides, Sam crossed the motel room and pulled Gabriel into a kiss. "Missed you," Sam mumbled into the archangel's mouth.

"You too," Gabriel's hands rested on his lover's hips, undecided on whether to pull Sam closer and down to the bed to dirty-up that newly-clean exterior, or gently push him away and catch-up on the fortnight he'd been away. Sam eventually pulled away himself. "Mrgh,” he protested.

Sam just smiled. "How goes it in heaven?"

"Raphael's sulking, Michael's strangely diplomatic, Castiel is the poster child for archangel behaviour and Anael is 'negotiating' with Crowley far too much for anyone's liking - but no-one's going to say anything because Dad’s quite happy to let it continue. Cas came down with me," Gabriel cocked his head. Something was - "Have you cut your hair?"

"Oh, yeah, it was getting a little ridiculous," Sam shrugged.

Gabriel slid a hand up into the damp strands and tugged gently, pulling Sam down into another kiss. It was as short as the first time he’d met his lover on a college campus, years ago, and it stirred a memory never far from his thoughts. "I like it," was all he said, guiding Sam closer to the bed.

"Gabriel, I just showered," the protest was half-hearted at best, and Sam knew they could always share another afterwards. "Cas is in Dean’s room?"

"Yeah, so shut up Winchester and let me ravish you."

\--

That night, Dean, Sam and Gabriel (Castiel watching, amused and not even trying to restrain them) got horrifically drunk and Sam woke the next morning with a hangover, an angelic teddy bear and a fresh tattoo. "Ah, my head. Click it away," he whined into Gabriel's neck as his lover's fingers traced the sigil, rapidly healing on Sam's hip.

Gabriel smiled, "Your head?"

"Hangover. Jerk," lips tickling against his skin.

"My name," he slid his hand free hand up to rest on Sam's neck, allowing his grace to flow deftly to ease Sam's over-indulgence, “is Gabriel. You should remember that now you’ve got it tattooed on your skin.” And now _that_ little piece of Gabriel’s puzzle was slotting into place, he knew he was due a conversation with his mortal lover.

Sam hummed, sleepily content.

Well, there was no time like the present, thought Gabriel with a roll of his eyes. “So, you know how I’ve always dodged the details on how I changed my mind about you and the whole apocalypse thing?”

“…Yeah,” Sam wanted to pull away and look at him properly but confessions were always easier for Gabriel when he didn’t have to make eye contact while he did it. For an archangel of judgement he desperately avoided it being visited upon him.

“It was a little more complicated than seeing the proverbial light,” Gabriel admitted. “A few days after the warehouse, I uh…” So very few things embarrassed him, why was this so difficult to say?

After a few silent moments, Sam shifted a leg further over Gabriel’s thighs and leaned away a little to see the light flush on his lover’s face. He caught the archangel in a soft, exploratory kiss, tongues stroking gently. Gabriel relaxed; this was Sam.

Sam, whom he could tell anything, everything; Sam, who was here, alive against all the odds and who had been instrumental in giving Gabriel back his family and his purpose. So when Sam finally pulled away with a sigh, he explained in a breathy rush.

\--

“And you know it’s the right time because…?”

Facing each other, on their sides and with legs still twined, they discussed the specifics. “Your hair was just like this,” Gabriel remembered, sliding his hands up into the dark strands and stroking Sam’s scalp lightly, “You had this gorgeous tattoo, right here,” his fingers slipped down to trace the sigil. “And I remember what I thought of myself. I thought I seemed happy, free, and more myself than I’d been in millennia. That’s what I feel now.” Gabriel grinned as Sam pushed him onto his back and settled, straddling his hips.

“Then I guess we have to make sure you get to feel this.”

Gabriel punctuated the statement with a groan when Sam rolled his hips down. “Don’t distract me, Sammy,” his hands held Sam firmly as he sat up. “Get dressed.”

“What was I wearing?” he asked as he pulled away.

“I don’t remember,” Gabriel smirked, “You weren’t wearing anything for long.”

\--

They made a quick excuse to Dean, who was familiar enough with angelic time travel not to wait up, and Gabriel took Sam in his arms, carefully whisking them back to 2009. Even with such a tricky thing as moving through time and space, Gabriel was spot on with his positioning. They were in an empty bedroom room and a glance out of the window showed them an unparalleled view Paris. “Wow,” Sam breathed.

“Well, I was trying to bury myself in a few Tricks,” he admitted, and with one hand on Sam’s hip, over his sigil (and wasn’t that possessive gesture habit in the making), Gabriel took them up to the door of a suite. He knocked and turned to Sam. “Let me do the talking for a minute, okay?”

Sam just shrugged and leaned casually against the door frame, grinning when Gabriel swallowed noticeably at the sight and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

The door opened, and Sam was suddenly faced with two versions of his angelic lover. The differences were astounding, though subtle. He could see now the ease with which the Gabriel of his present held himself, happier and more comfortable with everything he was, with his family – something which Sam was still amazed to know included him and Dean.

The Gabriel of 2009 seemed smaller, apparently rebounding from being face with the harsh reality of the apocalypse. Until that day in the warehouse, no-one had said his true name for hundreds of years; he’d almost forgotten it himself. He looked between Sam and his Gabriel for a few moments like they were the world’s most riveting tennis match until, “Huh.”

“Yep,” said Sam’s Gabriel, rocking back on his heels and smirking.

“I didn’t see this coming.”

He continued to act smug as he replied, “I did,” and Sam could help but roll his eyes.

“So this is what, divine intervention?” Gabriel asked, turning away and walking into the suite, conjuring a glass of scotch with a click. Sam and his Gabriel followed him in, closing the door behind them. “Am I to take it that you’ve somehow _won_?” The disbelief was tangible, and Sam couldn’t reconcile that with the Gabriel who’d shown up in their motel room a day after their revealing stay in a mental hospital, full of confidence and no good explanation for it.

“I’d hardly be wasting my time convincing myself to join a lost cause now, would I?”

“Who knows what effect over-exposure to a Winchester can do to your intelligence,” past Gabriel sniped, taking the scotch down in one swift mouthful, refusing to look at him, concentrating his frown on his future self.

Sam’s Gabriel was unfazed. “There are still rules; you know I can’t tell you how this plays out.”

Past Gabriel huffed out a humourless laugh. “Oh, I can see very well how this plays out. Shacking up with the two vessels and a half-watt, falling fledgeling against the Host and Hell? That’s Mardi Gras, right there.”

Sam flared with anger. “Cas isn’t-“

“Sam,” his Gabriel warned softly and he relaxed, remembering the certain rules to this piece of time travel Gabriel had warned him about before they took the trip here; numero uno was imparting anything related to the outcome of the war. Castiel’s successful search for God and latter elevation to archangel status was probably one of the most important in that category, besides the fact that they win and manage to permanently imprison Lucifer in a special corner of heaven.

The native Gabriel’s eyes finally settled on Sam with little expression beyond careful curiosity. Whatever he was looking for, he found and after a few tense moments, a look passed between the two archangels; they seemed to share a whole and silent conversation which only ended when the Gabriel of this time stepped forward and his Gabriel moved away to the counter with a salacious and encouraging grin, clicking into existence his own glass of scotch.

“Come on then, Sammy,” the native Gabriel said Sam’s name in exactly the same tone his Gabriel did even now, “Show me what I’m fighting for.”

It wasn’t something he was going to deny his lover no matter what the time frame, and Sam reached out, pulling Gabriel to him. It was strange at first – this Gabriel took a split second longer to fall into the natural rhythm Sam and his Gabriel found with ease now – but it was soon as familiar to Sam as breathing, and his lips curved into the kiss with this Gabriel’s when he heard his Gabriel exclaim softly, “Really _is_ like my own private porn.”

Well if it was personalised porn his archangel wanted, ask and ye shall receive, thought Sam. When Gabriel’s hands slipped out of his hair – clearly a long standing obsession of his lover’s – and began pushing Sam’s jacket off his shoulders, he returned in kind, unbuttoning Gabriel’s shirt and guiding them closer to the bed. Another set of hands behind him helped him out of his jacket, but didn’t settle back on him.

He wasn’t sure which Gabriel clicked, although given the native Gabriel’s hands were back in Sam’s hair he could venture a pretty accurate guess, but Sam could feel the tell-tale stroke and sudden breeze of his clothes being removed and he knew they’d be folded on some available surface when he came to look.

Gabriel pulled away, offering over his shoulder to his counterpart a, “Nice work.” His eyes swept down Sam, lingering on the sigil. His eyes snapped to Sam’s, shocked before he curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled Sam back down into a kiss.

Sam was almost painfully hard and he was aware of every point of contact between his and Gabriel’s bodies as he pushed him down onto the bed; as he straddled Gabriel’s waist, rocking back into Gabriel’s cock, he grazed his teeth down his neck and was rewarded with a familiar moan. Either by click or a swift, well-practiced move, Sam found himself on his back and Gabriel was grinning.

Whatever Gabriel was thinking, he didn’t tell Sam, but after a swift kiss he was mouthing his way down Sam’s chest. Sam caught sight of his Gabriel over the figure swirling his tongue around his nipple, and he smirked as Sam arched under a sharp nip of teeth. Sam let his head fall back as Gabriel’s mouth dipped briefly into his belly button before he licked one, long stripe up the underside of Sam’s cock. “Yeah, just like that,” Sam groaned, as Gabriel sucked his cock down and spit-slick fingers teased their way inside.

Even as his Gabriel choked out, “Sammy,” Gabriel barely batted an eyelash and Sam barely got out a warning before he was coming hard down his throat. Everything went hazy for a few seconds, but when he came back to himself Sam realised Gabriel was sitting back on his heels, observing with a soft, puzzled smile. He was still hard, and Sam decided that all that careful preparation Gabriel had done would not go to waste.

He reached out and pulled Gabriel to him, reversing their positions so he was straddling Gabriel waist and grinding their hips together. Sam leaned down, Gabriel’s face in his hands, licking his way into his mouth; as he pulled away, Gabriel followed until they were both upright, and Sam felt an identical chest against his back.

Sam had trained himself out of the urge to say “God” during sex pretty quickly, but it was a close thing as he realised he was sandwiched between the two Gabriels. His brain was telling him that his Gabriel was behind him, guiding his hips and the native Gabriel was in front of him, between his legs – but they felt the same against him, around him and it hardly mattered which was which; it clearly wasn’t bothering them, their fingers meeting over Sam’s tattoo. He wasn’t sure which one reached down between them, his face buried in Gabriel’s neck as one of them slowly stroked his rapidly hardening cock, but then Gabriel nudged at Sam’s entrance and he was so pliant under the archangels’ attention that Gabriel slid inside slowly with little resistance.

The breathy moan drawn from Gabriel’s throat stuttered with every twist and thrust of Sam’s hips, and with his Gabriel’s hand at a maddeningly gentle pace on his cock, Sam groaned out their name, unsure of which one it was meant for but realising it _still_ didn’t matter. They were plastered against each other, hips tight together which didn’t do much for leverage but the friction made it all the sweeter. The only sounds in the room were shallow uneven gasps and the slide of flesh among hitched moans.

Sam felt fingers brush at the base of his spine, and it dawned on him that Gabriel had reached around to bring his counterpart off and the sheer delicious beauty of the thought tipped Sam over the edge and he was coming, cock pulsing in his Gabriel’s hand, tight against Gabriel’s belly. A few moments later, a hand over his eyes was the only signal and practice held Sam’s eyes shut against two distinct flashes of Form and Voice.

The Gabriels stretched out either side of Sam, who was only aware of warmth and unlikely cleanness as he slowly drifted to sleep. The last thing he knew as he surrendered to it was two hands meeting over the sigil.

\--

It was the flutter of wings that woke him, a sound he’d conditioned himself to be aware of. He tensed until warm, familiar arms encircled his waist, a hand slipping up to the back of his neck. “He’ll be back soon,” Gabriel said into Sam’s hair. “Has something else to take care of, apparently.”

“You are busy, nowadays,” Sam agreed sleepily.

Gabriel sighed harshly. “Sometimes I wish I’d never met you.”

“You’ve told me that before,” he confessed with a smile. “Usually followed by a crude comment about your favourite body part of the week making it worth your while.”

“Now that sounds like me,” he laughed, playing with the hair curling at the base of Sam’s neck. He shifted so he was burrowing into Gabriel’s side and Gabriel caught Sam’s hand in his. “Are you happy, Sam?”

The question puzzled him, but he answered anyway. “Yeah, Gabriel. I’m happy.”

“When did you get the tattoo? Which is possibly one of the sexiest things I’ve seen in a long time, by the way; you, literally marked as mine.”

Sam knew he was blushing, even though he’d heard Gabriel’s thoughts on the matter when he’d disappeared with Dean and came back with a fresh bandage. “Last night. We were out with Dean and Cas.”

“I can’t imagine spending all my time with you, Dean and Castiel.”

“Stop fishing for information,” Sam growled with a grin, realising what his archangel was up to. Past or present, he was exactly the same person.

“Sorry,” Gabriel sounded anything but.

“You don’t spend all your time with us. Dean and I hunt just like before, but every few weeks we get angelic tag-alongs for a while.” It was difficult skirting around the truth, especially when it could do Gabriel so much good, but the chips had to fall just as before, because Sam couldn’t bear the thought of losing the happy ending they got.

Gabriel groaned, “The curiosity is going to kill me.”

“So dramatic,” Sam rolled his eyes. He let his teeth graze Gabriel’s neck before kissing the same spot gently. “Everything’s gonna work out.”

Sam may have zoned out, the fingers stroking his scalp lulling him, but eventually he saw sunlight disappear through the curtains; night had fallen.

“I should leave,” Gabriel said eventually. “So I can come back.” Sam watched him slip out of bed and pull on his clothes – as expected, his and Gabriel’s were folded neatly on a chair in two distinct piles.

“Do you want to know where you’ll find us, now?” He asked, pulling one of the spare pillows to him to curl around now both bed partners had left.

Gabriel slipped on his trainers and walked back to the bed. “Something tells me I’ll find you anyway,” he smirked. He drew Sam into a kiss, deep and breathtaking like he was trying to trace every nuance of Sam’s mouth and memorise it. “I really hope it won’t take too much convincing to get you to give this a chance.”

He pressed his lips chastely to Gabriel’s, and with their breath still mingling, he replied, “That would be telling.”

The native archangel pulled away with a groan; there was a flutter and Gabriel was gone.

Sam buried his face in the pillow, savouring the silky texture of quality sheets then reluctantly left the opulent four-poster bed and pulled on his own clothes. He didn’t have to wait long before Gabriel, his Gabriel, appeared. “You took a great deal of convincing,” he said, and Sam pinned him to the door bodily.

“But I was worth it,” he grinned, feeling a little light headed and giddy.

“You were,” agreed Gabriel. “And thank you.”

It seemed so unnecessary, it confused him. “What for?”

The brought two fingers up to lightly brush at Sam’s temple, and they were back in their time where they belonged, in their motel room apparently only an hour after they’d left. Gabriel finally answered. “For doing this,” the ‘duh’ was implied, “For being happy with me even though I’m only usually on Earth one week out of every month; for telling me what I needed to hear and giving me faith in a future worth making.”

“Any time, Gabriel, you know that.”

“Well, while we’re being so sappy, you do know that the sigil combined with sex and my grace essentially binds you to me forever, right?”

“…the _fuck_?!”

“Guess not.”


End file.
